Let other bards of angels sing,
Bright suns without a spot;
But thou art no such perfect thing:
Rejoice that thou art not!
Heed not tho' none should call thee fair;
So, Mary, let it be
If nought in loveliness compare
With what thou art to me.
True beauty dwells in deep retreats,
Whose veil is unremoved
Till heart with heart in concord beats,
And the lover is beloved.
To Mary
William Wordsworth
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Poem topics: beauty, perfect, deep, bright, rejoice, true, compare, heart, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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Joseph jeyamani: Surprised that wwworth has sung this poignant poem on Mary.true beauty dwells in deepretreats is loaded with meanings
Thank you google for giving me the poem by the click of my finger inthe comfort of my home.
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